nicholasdsutton

[nicholasdsutton]

   "The Princess makes no secret of her belief England would be well ruled by a lady - would she be more or less, sympathetic to our cause?" A seraph, a child of pleasure and virginal beauty --- Elizabeth's ice of pride, was reflected well in the Grey sisters; awarding them the comfort of friendship, or the derision born of twin flames. "Anxieties? She wrote to me of no unpleasantness -- save for soothing my simpering desires and needy gestures." Nicholas, born a man and a simp, had little methods of disguising his true nature; John, whose head seemed fated for the block, had forsaken comfort for love, and the heat of a Grey sister's bed. He was no source of judgement. "Ah....Pippa - what insults did she hurl at your door? I do believe she likes you, dearly; but you, in all your kindness, make yourself a glorious target for her ire." 

Nicholas could extend no ire towards John's nature, in the wake of numerous heart aches, both natural and man-made. But he found himself once more a victim of circumstance; being unable to undo the past, yet having no window to move forward. "We shall keep the cold at bay, through sport; and whisper likes our wives, without unfriendly ears. To tell you the truth? I admire and enjoy the Spanish -- I do not know however, if allying ourselves with them would be beneficial, or further cast us as enemies of the crown." 

John and Nicholas had forged a fast friendship, even before they had become brothers by marriage. Nicholas had been one of the few to treat him with a measure of respect, something which he had always appreciated. After his nuptials, he had also provided John with comfort and security in terms of coming to be with Amelia, the man's presence an easy excuse for his trips, should anyone take note of them.

Taking a bite of his bread, John pulled a face, thinking for a moment. "That depends on who you ask. He was gone, yes, but he had his sister to occupy his place. It would seem to me that she enjoyed it, perhaps too well." There were few people in the world that John would ever voice such thoughts to, entirely aware of the treasonous bent that could be read into his words. "I am certain that Philippa would have benefited greatly from spending her time in Dover with you. Events here caused her much anxiety." For a moment he paused. "I am not certain that she and I are on speaking terms, just now. We had quite the confrontation, regarding the rumours in Florence."

He nodded, relieved at the notion. "Some sport would be a pleasant distraction. A ride, at least. Though I think the cold is already nipping at our heels. And you can more freely tell me how you found events in Dover. Do you think the Spanish friends or foes?"

[nicholasdsutton]

"Ariadne! Have you come to be my guide?" Héléne’s approach was with the sweeping, fluid, gliding step of each heavenly body that eve; blooming with exuberance, as to eclipse the person who last came. Speaking with a sweet smile, her attire was pretty to behold -- bare-headed she came upon him, her dark hair brazenly curled and displayed. Nicholas desired his company to be neither damping, nor insignificant; a glow of good feeling passed perfectly upon his cheek, warmed still by a kissed place by Pippa, hours past.  "I am no hallmark of great beauty, though I imagine it is quite a burden -- do you grow weary of compliments, or do they still delight you? I am blessed at least, by the warmth of my bride's love; a Grey sister, through and through. Be honest and we shall be friends -- do I wear my title stamped across my forehead, or have one of my bride's sisters, sewn a sign to my back? Regardless, dear lady, I know you - who else, but the mystical, Héléne d'Halluin?" 

Héléne’s approach was sudden and without warning, her eyes trained upon a fellow she neither knew or really thought to take true notice off. Still, she felt drawn to him, and when donned in something so flamboyant and decadent as her outfit for Ariadne, she ignored the call of her match that evening to meet a man who stood beneath the canopy of Greys, Seymours and Percys. Whether they all sung to the tune of the Tudors, Protestantism or Catholicism, Héléne didn’t think to truly care, and instead approached with a wavering smirk, her hand quickly touched upon his arm. “Adonis — am I right?” She asked, removing her hand Héléne adjusted the fall of her hair, a single finger then hooked around the head of the Minotaur that lay against her chest in signal for Ariadne’s greatest betrayal. “You wear it well, but I am sure a great manner of ladies have sweetened words for you, so I will reserve them. You are… hmm, let me think. You stand beside the Grey sisters with such pride, and so you must be the Duke of Suffolk! Am I right?” @nicholasdsutton

[nicholasdsutton]

@philippaed

location: bone town 

 Their bedchamber was quite dark, except for a red light shining under and about the hearth; the wide glass doors and long windows were misted over. A crystal sparkle of starlight here and there spangled blanched this November night, scattered brilliants with the paleness of embroidery, across the chamber; the night was clear, though devoid of the comforts of a halycon moon. Nicholas' heart quaked, his pulse quickly leapt, when he heard the rustling of his wife; she, a deep shadow in the steps of a deeper shadow still - moved and descended towards him. She paused a while at a settee, before she glided before him - simultaneously came the the clanger of a distant church bell. Sounds like this brought thoughts of what Nicholas owned, he anticipated. "Wife." Pippa stood not dressed, but as marbled and perfect as a sculpture; bare was the hot-flesh he worshiped. For a long interval he forgot to think of how he demeaned himself, drawn only to the magnetism of Philippa, unclothed, wanting. 

Desire outstripped all reason - it was hot to vision, scalding to sensation. She disclosed to him in her cunt, a power like a deep winter river, thundering in cataract and bearing down on the soul.  "Let us be known to each other once more, my love; I wish for nothing but your gasping pantings of defiance - let me bend your frame, and fight for every inch of its wanting ground." He advanced one step, then two; for he meant to touch her - the impulse, the mood which controlled him, was with the fait that induced him to a confessional. Nicholas bent and kissed Pippa on her neck; he kissed her not with mere desire, but with feeling. He slipped his hands round her, the tips of his fingers grazing the small of her back - it was his way of saying he was happy, happy here with her. Without pause he brought his mouth to hers, and felt the egalitarianism of the moment. They were not a traitor and her simpering spouse; they were not man and wife - just two human beings, snug and safe in that night. 

[nicholasdsutton]

@johnseymour

location: bois breakfast!!!! 

 He had time to bathe his eyes before breakfast -- dreams of Pippa as a basilisk, coiled around Edmund, had plagued his rest. Nicholas appeared as serene as any other person; not however, as jocund looking as his brother by marriage, who seated himself in the seat beside his own - who fixed on him, a pair of small eyes twinkling gleefully. Treason and sinful behaviours agreed with John mightily; he had become taller, a freshness of bloom about him. Nicholas did not care for the morning cup of tea; Hampton Court's brewage not being strong or sweet enough to suit his excellent appetites. This mourning he was glad for the draught of hunger - he chose to give his bread to John rather to any other vessel. Nicholas rather liked to let him take the lion's share; whether that of beer, or sweet wine - even when the women wrangled, they were never alienated from one another. 

"How did court fair in his majesty's absence? Was my bride pleased to occupy the space his bravado usually occupies? The Dover affair was full of malice, dramatics, and antipathy; in short, a Grey daughter would have better enjoyed it than I." Philippa and her kin boasted meritorious endowments of a higher nature; a thirst for melodrama, lurked as an interloper in their more charitable traits. "It has been some time since the two of us were engaged in our own endeavours - do you still enjoy tennis, or the hunt? The weather is soon to turn; let us make the best of the remainder of merry weather." 

[nicholasdsutton]

@philippaed

amongst a dozen letters addressed to philippa, lays a note in nicholas' hand; he hopes, that the font would attract her immediately. 

Dearest Pippa -

It does occur to me to inquire what you have been doing with yourself in my absence - I daresay you have been as happy and as busy as ourselves on our honeymoon. As to the King; he is so sought after, engaged, that one will fear he will grow evermore conceited. Like a good sister, Mary seems keen to keep him down - no flattery does he get from her. And yet, William is a fine man - the Dowager's maternal heart must dance, at the sight of him. A certain petrifying influence surrounds the Spanish; Mary being a cold, callous epicure of all things. She is all that is famed of her late mother - she is useless as far as the communication of knowledge, but strict surveillance and observance of religious practices, she is invaluable. I find myself part of a strange, frolicsome and busy little world - I should not find anything as striking or brilliant, as my the part of my heart which remains at his majesty's court. 

  I sit down, take quill and paper because I love you, and have much to say to you; in all I write, I am tender and true. Be gentle to me, Pippa; be pitying, be a woman - imagine this poor face, and relent. You know I am your husband and friend - I love you in even your wrath, with a passion beyond any realm of what I have ever felt. Your reply will be my last comfort in a strait of loneliness; I have long accepted part is to please another. My delight is to feed my ravenous sentiments of love for you. Our detractors pronounce you a most villainous little she-hypocrite; but it is I who am a mere despotic little creature, and you, a lady of high honour. With the full benefit of your light, I allow you to think of me as more in the dark than I really am. I miss you in every waking moment; I pray for the angel of sleep to take hold, and offer me the only relief viable for a love-sick fool. The very thought of neglecting you so pierces my heart that I might cry. Life is said to be a disappointment; but towards me, I hope you shall never harbour such a notion. I have written three times - subduing my romantic phrases at every rescript. You have yet to deride my dramatic demonstrations; but I wish for my letter to only worry your features in a warm smile. 

Write to me and offer me refuge from this Tudor clique I cannot evade- write to me and affirm that you love me, that you'll have me when I return. I know it is tiresome to reaffirm affections time and time again - how has Nick, despite all his simpleness, not taken my word to heart? It is not you who I am in doubt of; it worries me that I am not a man made in the shape of someone who will be loved.

devotedly and with deep admiration, yours

nicholas 

[nicholasdsutton]

for: @katharined

a mother-son stroll in the gardens

    Nicholas found a moment's leisure, and with a pensive sort of content, set out for his newfound lady mother's quarters. It was sacrilege - the intrusion of a man into the apartments of the Grey's - but Nicholas knew himself privileged; perhaps he believed himself trusted. Common sense was a virtue Nicholas digested at his own pleasure. Katharine's ladies introduced Nicholas with reluctance; he hastily offered his pardons, and the request of her company. Instead of sending him away, Katharine detained him to take a turn with in the gardens she knew him to love; they toured merrily, beneath a sky which blushed so vividly, that its hue mirrored the temperate blue light of Kate's eyes, bestowing all a warm glow. All walks and shrubs in the garden had acquired a new interest; plants, full and bright with bloom, basked in the sun's bounty.

   Katharine was all-good nature; she spoke with that famed tact of hers, surpassed by no living thing - for his faults, she would not tender a remonstrance. He liked her for her capital sense, and her principles; under any mask of asperity, she was good-hearted."I risk tempting fate by wagering you shall have a grandchild born in the new year - would you afford me the honour, of naming our child in your honour? I do not disparage my wife in dismissing she shall afford me male heirs; but I cannot deny the fondness, the notion of a little Katharine brings me." Smart, trim and pert, Katharine eschewed the dumpy, motherly little body a grandmother was wont to inhabit; without youth, her beauty still cheered - one never tired of seeing her. "The court is a flurry over King William's prospects - but he is by far, outstripped by you, in his eligibility on the marriage circuit; would you scoff at notions of marrying a rich Italian banker, or one of the Emperor's finest? I would mourn your departure from our side, but it would be foolish to deny you delight the courts still with your beauty and singledom." 

[nicholasdsutton]

Edmund and Nicholas, without any assimilating, understood each other well. Nicholas was not his friend; Edmund tied him to nothing, not even even to his interests in Nicholas' bride. There was perhaps, gratification in devotion to their oppugnant pursuits - yet Nicholas, for his part, seemed blind to this possibility. Impervious to the conjecture, to the likelihood, that pleasure doubled in each testy exchange passed between the pair. "Come! I could never hate you - and she is famed for her vitality, is she not? And surely, will be wed to someone. You would make a handsome couple; I merely suggest ensuring you are limber, for she will not take lightly to being instructed to do anything she does not expressly wish to." He laughed til his cheeks were warm, til he bent his head and made his handkerchief, the sole confidant of his mirth. Edmund was pleasant to behold; testy and candid - he was not more earnest than right, in all that he said. "You declare I hate you, yet invite me to dine with your lady mother - Edmund, you seek to either gratify, or trample upon, my ego. I believe your mother and I would fashion you a worthy bride within a week; if the Parr girl is not within your sights, I will gladly find you another. Do you wish for me to make it my Christian duty, to do so? I know you to be a man unabashed, it declaring what brings him pleasure."

The blueness and fire of Edmund's glance was so domesticated in Nicholas' memory, he found in impossible to conceive how ​​​​​​​such a blue had been ordained by nature. Edmund forced his hand, to pursue an audacious parallel - a pursuit of love, in a desperate grasp after supremacy. Nicholas felt no mere transport of nervous irritation; he admitted in genuine and stilled silence, that his heart stamped Edmund with a brand of approval. Edmund was a man always to be submitted to; it was needful to Nicholas, to resist - to stand still and look up into his eyes, and mark the absolutism of his handsomeness, verging on tyranny. "Search me for falsehood in its subtlest forms, and you should find none. My arms are well built - they are stable enough to envelop a form, as marbled as yours." For Pippa, Nicholas willingly laid down the burden of egotism, and took up the charge, of labouring and living for another; to be inspired to make another the orb of his life in tandem, had once seemed beyond reason. Edmund had such kind looks, such a warm hand upon his arm - his voice kept for Nicholas, so pleasant a tone. "And what will be of me, once you have taken your fill and become satisfied? What will I do once you have won me, and mounted me upon your wall beside other conquests? Or do you suggest, I am a pleasure, which shall endure?" 

in another life, edmund would relish in nicholas remaining such a devoted husband to pippa, as he believed she deserved nothing short of a man who was willing to dedicate his entire life to the cause of loving her. ironic that in this one, edmund is cursed to perceive him as simply a rival for affections that fate stole from him unjustly, rather than the beloved friend or love that he desired to believe him to be. a bemused grin on his face at nicholas' suggestion, a flash of teeth at the other, soley full of mirth rather than malice as they may have been previously. " you wish to shackle me to a woman such as her? you wound me with your words, nicholas. if you hate me simply speak it, rather than attempt to tie me to a woman who shall take off running at the first bells within the chapel." with a laugh, edmund shrugged in a nonchalant sort of disregard. " i am certain my mother shall bequest you into an arrangement before the new year, shall i inform her that you have taken up the cause as well. she will be overjoyed to spend a meal with you discussing all the potential brides, you may even whisper secrets to one another. shall i expect you darkening my door at the very prospect?" a tease, flit of his words that promised little but so much all at once. 

edmund relished in the way that nicholas seemed to begin to melt beneath the saccharine words that he fed him, as if he was a servant offering grapes to a lazy tyrant. i have never sought to deny you. a sharp contrast from the way that the man's own wife had cruelly teased edmund to deny her, as if nicholas sought edmund out as something desirable - a man worthy of being held close to his chest. hands dancing along the edges of nicholas', fingers skirting along the edges of firm and sturdy biceps, tracing nonsensical patterns. " careful how you speak to me, my lord. i may begin to believe your whispers foolishly, and seek to find comfort within these arms." the fact that nicholas' request far surpasses his own is startling, in a lustful, sinful sort of way. in the sense that edmund is certain he shall have to atone a thousand times over come morning for the promises that he makes this night. " i will grant you such a prize, though i must caution that i am not a virtuous man, nicholas. if i am to get a taste of something, i may become insatiable with longing for it. unsatisfied till i may steal another taste of it."

[nicholasdsutton]

   He fancied, but was not philosopher enough to map the distinction, that they oft spoke with the same distempered breath, that they were goaded and stung into action. A vein of reason ran through Edmund's passions; he was logical, even when fierce. A growing sense of attachment began to present at the thought of being near him; in quite a new light, he may have agreed to stay. After a calm summer, storms were ushering in fall. The wind had taken a new tone - it was piercing, articulate, disconsolation to Nicholas' nerves, a thrill in every gust. "Such a match would benefit all of England, would it not? Your lady mother would sit well beside the Dowager." Lifting his head, Nicholas met Edmund's eyes with an unusual earnestness. "As it should be. I prize her as a best-friend; she brings into my heart a deep delight, a warm and beautiful life, a reality. I wish for you such a bride; perhaps the Parr girl? Only if you are half as athletic if it is to believed; if rumour is to be believed, she shall be chased straight to the alter." 

    Nicholas wanted to compromise with faith - to escape agonies by submitting to a life of piety.  Faith would not sanction this shrinking retreat and cowardly indolence. He was perhaps, not a particularly good man; he was not as amiable as he aspired. But he had his feelings, so strong and concentrated; these feelings had a singular object, to which was dear to him. And what an existence he enjoyed, while he loved. Edmund had strength to fold Nicholas into his arms; he had power to speak his name, and hear him tenderly and fondly. Close proximity strengthened these resolutions, and afforded him an uncommonly fortunate view of the clear amity in Edmund's eyes. "Forgive my cynicism; it's hereditary. But I believe that, has yet to be seen." He continued after a pause, "And again, I plead for your forgiveness; I have never sought to deny you. Certainly not, to deny you me." He could not see reason - he stood with impatience in his pulse, with no doubt echoed in his breast. Nature had afforded him a voice to be always heard; power, when imbued with character and emotion. Yet he scarce sought to challenge to the heights of a whisper - they were stilled for a moment, an experience of a new kind laying before them. "I wish to amend my own prize; I will seek the same from you, but I wish to make a succession of breaths my own - to leave you in want of language, but arrested to the spot, incapable of delivering." 

the quip about william circling his sisters' skirts caught edmund off guard, a faint hint of surprise flashed along his face before it schooled itself back into a far safer look. one that spoke of an easy nature between friends, despite the way he now began to wonder if william had confided in nicholas of a secret he had not divulged with edmund. one that whispered in his ear of a leering childhood friend with power beneath his belt, who may seek to claim now what was once forbidden. his sisters. perhaps nicholas was a better rival than edmund believed him once to be, if he so easily was able to shake his steadfast faith within the bond he possessed with william. yet, the earl refused to fall into such schoolyard taunts, gifting nicholas another far too charming smile. " if our king desired to fall for one of my beloved sisters, it is he who shall be blessed to be graced with such a devoted and faithful wife," a hint of something smug in his eyes before he finished his sentence. " not all men are bestowed such a glory, my lord." it was a childish remark, one that edmund allowed to pass quickly. far more focused on the way in which nicholas indulged him so, granting him the promise of a favor gifted. as if edmund was not a less honorable man, who may wish to claim something unbecoming and torrid. 

the earl dressed to press a step forward, the gap between the pair lessening till it was barely a breath to take without stealing air from the other. his eyes trace the planes of nicholas' face, as if mapping out each feature to commit to his memory, to remember when this moment plagued his dreams as he attempted to rest later. " i promise, dear friend, that i do not wish to ask for something that shall never be mine," he voiced quietly, catching a whiff of nicholas on the breeze - hints of pine and the smoke from the pipe that edmund knew him to smoke, the faintest hint of pippa. but even the reminder of her is not enough to still his tongue from asking for what he truly desired in this moment. " merely, something i believe that i am owed. penance for denying me your company among other things, nicholas," he laughed softly, eyes flickering down to rest on the other lord's lip for the briefest moment before they returned to his eyes. " for my prize, i desire to steal a breath of air from your lips. to steal the very words off the tip of your tongue, if that pleases you."

[nicholasdsutton]

 Philippa's manner towards Nicholas was touched with dignity; he hardly knew how to blend together in his mind the delicate dame and the avenging seraph. Her infantine sparkle had yet to be extinguished that night - she yielded to the effervescence of glee. She possessed different moods for different people; with him, she was affectionate, merry, and as womanly as thought and feeling could make her. For the court, she was reliant and expansive, able to shun and pursue the endeavour of appearing cold. Nicholas believed he alone called into her face a pleasurable glow, and and induced a gossamer happiness hanging in the air. The summit of earthly happiness was to love - to be loved, brought Nicholas to the end of all mortal misery. Nicholas felt her natural position was to be by his side; her eyes and ears were dedicated to him. His love had rendered him ductile in her hands, his affection and devoutness blinded his eyes sometimes - he would abandon justice to himself to the craft of marriage. Nicholas loved her now in another degree; she was more his own. 

He had neither anticipated nor invoked her words, which made him shudder involuntarily. "Soft or sharp? For you I am in the habit of obeying both; it is the manner of your breathing, which shall dictate whether to stroke or meet you with force. I am painfully selfish and wish to rid myself of the affliction altogether; but I am bent to obey the mould I was cast in. I know in my heart your are mine - but to hear you tell me you love me, I am made wholly new. I lay this charge upon you like a prayer - I must be a sinner indeed." Scarce a living could be so noble and honourable as to love her. He loved her too well - too much so, to smite jealousy from his path, though a cordial word from her lips would do him good for the span of a life. Nicholas owned jealousy's severe charm - there was something so wholly good in Pippa, that she could not receive it. "My life will not be well spent if it is not dedicated to the procuring of your happiness; should the Boleyns favour my head upon a spike, I could not protest my fatal post, so long as you will think of me tenderly and fondly, every now and then." Bravery and desperation sufficed to fill the post and did the work of courage in Nicholas. He was not a man whom one would seek to send to war; but of sacrificing himself for Philippa, he made no difficulty. The restraint in their marriage had since slackened in prolonged attentions; already to Philippa's lip and cheek geniality reigned, and a wreathing, dimpling smile returned. Nicholas did not merely purport levity, nor raillery, across his aspect - his position had become more pleasurable to himself, and he spoke this augmented comfort in readier language, in tones more suave. 

  Nicholas' heart trembled beside her; stars merely shone subject beside Pippa, and he, with the numinous the ray of pure love, paid willing tribute. "I am no prize - but I am yours in spades, Pippa. I know what it is to call you mine, and I can only offer you the weight of unconditional love as solace." In inadequate language his feelings struggled for expression they could not get - speech was made brittle and unmalleable. She was his queen; royal for him was her lips bounty, to offer homage was both a joy and a duty. Her kiss stirred him up, running with haste and heat through his veins - recalling past hours of prolonged pleasure, and many days and nights of heart sickness. Philippa kissed him and he arbitrated her destiny; love was no oracle, but he pronounced her a diety upon Earth. This moment of tenderness was one of utmost mutiny; he took her lips once more, for one more taste of the deep spell of peace. His words caressed her ear. "Take my love. Be my dearest, first on earth." He took a delight inexpressible in pressing her to him now, his fingers brushing against those which sought to undo his buttons; she deserved candour, and from Nicholas, she always had it. "Be mine. You inquired if I shall be soft or sharp; I am a blade now, and I wish to be charged by your seamstress for the destruction of this frock."

if  there  ever  was  any  hesitation  to  disclose  how  he  possessed  the  entirety  of  her  heart  to  those  that  inquired  of  her  marital  bliss,  it  was  not  meant  to  disregard  the  gentle  manner  in  which  he  had  captured  the  fragile,  butterfly - winged  beat  between  his  hands  where  so  many  others  had  failed.  so  much  about  their  coupling  had  been  made  public,  the  crown  wielding  great  influence  over  her  personal  life  after  henry  grey  had  passed  by  presenting  her  with  an  option  that  was  no  true  choice  so  philippa  did  not  think  it  was  unreasonable  to  wish  that  the  love  had  sparked  between  them  remained  between  them  ─  not  even  her  mother  and  sisters  were  so  privileged  as  to  know  the  depths  of  her  affection,  how  nicholas  had  turned  her  from  clenched  fist  to  out - turned  glove,  the  softness  of  her  insides  exposed  for  his  clever  hand.  she  had  oft  wondered  if  he  understood  her  reasoning,  if  he  knew  just  how  selfish  she  could  be  when  it  came  to  sharing  the  details  of  his  devotion  to  her  or  the  guilt  that  would  twist  in  her  belly  whenever  she  realized  that  if  the  play  for  the  throne  dragged  her  down  to  hell,  he  would  be  dragged  along  with  her.  it  was  both  possessiveness  and  protectiveness  that  drove  her  to  keep  him  as  secret  as  one  could  in  a  marriage,  a  useless  hope  that  if  the  executioner  called  for  her  head,  he  might  still  be  saved  if  no  one  knew  that  he  was  her  greatest  weakness.

❝  only  after  we  retire  ?  then  let  us  do  so  immediately.  would  you  not  have  me  now,  soft  or  sharp,  if  you  could,  husband  ?  ❞  the  blunted  edges  of  her  nails  scratched  up  his  arm  as  she  spoke,  the  very  weight  of  his  gaze  upon  her  face,  unbroken  in  devoted  intensity  was  enough  to  quicken  the  pulse  and  kindle  a  growing  wave  of  desire  in  her  belly.  philippa  swayed  with  the  feeling,  breathing  the  words  upon  his  lips.  ❝  you  know  you  hold  monopoly  over  my  attention  no  matter  who  stands  before  me  ...  king  or  god,  all  men  falter  in  your  wake.  you  must  know  this.  ❞  there  was  a  hint  of  desperation  in  her  tone,  a  beseeching  whine  that  demanded  his  understanding  and  his  acceptance  of  her  divided  attention  ─  she  could  never  be  a  wife  to  sit  at  his  feet  and  rub  the  ache  from  his  legs  but  she  could  give  him  the  truest  parts  of  her  if  he  wished.  he  was  her  harbor  in  the  storm,  her  light  in  the  darkness,  her  stability  in  a  rocking  boat  and  she  would  not  be  without  his  grounding  strength.  the  questing  hand,  dancing  fingers  and  tickling  nails,  drifted  up  until  she  cupped  his  face,  drawing  him  close  with  a  thumb  stroking  his  cheek.  ❝  put  in  a  kind  word  where  you  can  but  not  at  the  risk  of  your  own  good  standing  with  the  king  ...  i  could  not  survive  if  the  eyes  of  the  boleyns  turned  to  you  with  anything  but  praise.  ❞  and  perhaps  that  was  the  most  frightening  realization  of  all  ─  that  she  would  condemn  her  sister,  john  and  even  little  jack  if  it  meant  saving  her  husband,  that  she  could  become  a  monster  that  ate  her  own  kin  to  ensure  the  survival  of  the  one  she  loved  the  most.  

(  no  one  could  know  the  depths  of  her  heart,  not  even  the  one  that  had  claimed  it  for  his  own.  he  would  fear  her  if  he  knew  and  it  would  kill  her  to  see  that  disgust  in  his  eyes.  )

❝  you  have  it  ...  you  have  me.  ❞  a  trembling  breath  was  shared,  her  voice  breaking  into  a  whisper  as  she  blindly  reached  for  his  fingers  with  one  hand  so  that  she  could  bring  him  up  to  where  her  heart  laid  beneath  her  shift,  pressing  the  warmth  of  his  palm  against  her  chest.  ❝  have  me  ...  have  me,  darling.  ❞  as  light  as  a  feather,  she  dropped  a  kiss  to  his  mouth  ─  once,  twice,  thrice,  followed  by  the  demand,  the  taunt,  the  challenge,  the  need.  ❝  my  soul  is  a  tempest  so  make  your  home  here.  ❞  the  hand  on  his  cheek  drifted  south  to  paw  at  his  doublet,  fingers  forming  claws  that  dug  into  the  rich  fabric  and  tugged  at  the  polished  buttons.  

[nicholasdsutton]

And then I learned the truth How everything good in life seems to lead back to you And every single time I run into your arms I feel like I exist for love

pippa and nick / i was yours, for free.

[nicholasdsutton]

    Nicholas' veins were stained with an atropa belladonna tincture; the essence of jealousy. Overwrought by the sensation, he became acutely irritable - possessed not by a tender jealousy which plagues the heart, but by a sinister, sterner sentiment, which dared to rule his head. In a shameless disregard of civility, Nicholas would have quarrelled with Edmund for all to see - unabashedly ruled by a system of petty bickering. He would have exiled fifty Percy's during such a hot episode; but Nicholas thoroughly possessed the art of making the most of what he knew - and what he knew, was Pippa would never be wedded to his nemesis. He knew Edmund to be his personal Mephistopheles. Nicholas thought himself eloquent; but Edmund was voluble. The first developments of a peculiar attraction appeared within his mind, and under his eye, curiously excited and disturbed him; he watched passion struggle into life with a fearsome scowl. He would not aid in the birth of such notions; but if they were born of strength, he would not stop their delivery. 

  He was believed to have conquered; but the laurels of his victory failed to shadow gracefully his temples."I have oft wondered how much time in a given day, is dedicated to thoughts of me." Nicholas tested him with intense seriousness; he honoured him with earnest avidity and pursued him with dual desires, passionately. Even taunting stirred in Nicholas ambitions wishes; the weight humiliation of such thoughts, inflicted sharp pains. "The fairness and goodness of your sisters is a topic on which we shall never quarrel - nor the insidious nature of men circling their skirts. Has our young King yet attempted to claim their attentions?" Edmund spoke with pleasure, with unconcealed exultation, gleefully condescending to remark upon Nicholas' wife. "The pleasures of the Duchess remain a mystery to you, dear friend; but she finds delight in realms beyond that of hunting. It remains a mans venture, does it not?" Edmund's sneer made his heart ache; yet it warmed the blood in his veins, and sent incentives to his impulses. His absolutism verged on tyranny; he had the gift of charm in exquisite fashion. "I accept your challenge happily, dear friend - with the caveat that the winner may not venture to claim something that can never be his. A prize must be within reason and reach, yes? But you are dear to me; I should wish to offer you joy, should you best me." 

edmund let out a dazzling sort of laugh at nicholas' words, the same one that he used frequently to charm women throughout court. for a brief fleeting thought edmund cannot help but wonder if he has slipped into the sense of attempting to charm nicholas. despite the coy nature that he often dons to protect himself, edmund is far too aware of eyes that settle on his features. he has always carried his mother's beauty, and it has only benefitted him thus far. yet, edmund is still surprised to notice the way that the duke's eyes linger on his lips, on the curve of the smile that he gives the older man. it is not far from the similar heated looks that richard tossed at him, ones that ended with them sprawled in one of their chambers. the earl know it's a bit wrong, perhaps cruel to seek out an answer for this riddle when the other party at risk is pippa. but he still remembered the harsh shove she'd given him the other night, with a catty giggle behind her hand, and he dares to close the distance between him and nicholas. till they were a few breaths apart. 

" fret not, my dear companion, there is nary a soul who shall steal my attention any longer from you," he jested, daring to stretch a hand forward to clasp nicholas' shoulder tightly. a fond yet far too long for a simple platonic sense of touch. he trailed his hand down the duke's arm gently, squeezing his elbow with a laugh. " my beloved sisters certainly seem to desire me to an early grave, i fear, they are quite a feat to behold. their suitors are many, i nearly need another set of hands to swat them off." his gaze held onto nicholas', steady and near a challenge. for what? even edmund was a bit uncertain. treading into a territory that he was vastly unfamiliar with, nicholas was not as similar as the nobles who were raised suckling the crown's thumb. his hand drops but lingers in the space between them, as if he could interlock their fingers if he desired. " has the duchess developed a sudden love for hunting?" another jest, lips quirking with mirth. " let's make a game of it, why don't we? whichever man catches the largest fowl, he shall claim a prize he desires of the other. a boon shared between friends."

[nicholasdsutton]

 Nicholas did not know if he found the women gathered that eve very beautiful; but their dresses were so perfect and their aspects warm and cheerful. Even the foreigners, mannerless in a foreign land, seemed to possess the art of appearing graceful. Many possessed a beauty never seen in England - the egotism of lovers saw Nicholas mark no equal to Philippa, not even Anne Boleyn's Virginal Princess . She was a Phidian goddess, a Madonna of Rome; she was blonde, terribly cold, rounded and beauteous. His mother had entreated him the day they had met, as Philippa turned, conscious that was she was a mark for all eyes . 'You need not fall in love with that lady' she began ' for you could die at her feet, and she would still not love you in return'. Nicholas' mother had born the notion no greater calamity could befall her as to be granted a daughter in law - for whom her sons sting of desperation, was little more than an irritant to her emotions. One could feel a sense of fear, looking upon Pippa - to gaze at her straight, nearly Grecian features was unsettling. Women achieve beauty as praise; but Pippa reigned beyond this sphere, and thus, what was she? What is a woman beyond the most powerful moniker, afforded to her sex? She spun for him, boasting attractions of light and eloquence, for her rose-like bloom, for the tender depth of his eyes. He would have once stammered lame expressions; but he covered his deficiency, with the urgency her countenance and sweetness, swiftly altering the flow of blood in his undergarments. "I adore whatever ministrations you wish to afford me - whether it be a simpering sigh, or the stinging of your nails, clinging to my back. Will I be in a position to receive the latter after we retire?" Pippa was fierce, dark and fearless; he feared his incessant flattery, would be his doom. 

"If you say yes, I pray that you shall award me the names of every man whom has sought to entreat you into conversation - shall you name the King himself? Or has the man so repugnant and beguiling in tandem, once more shown up at your door, a bird in his teeth?" It was impossible to show up her sterling value and high breeding ; to do so one would be forced to make comparison to Mary Stuart, who moved with the calm of a fatalist. Nicholas felt no terror at all, upon Pippa's demands and whims - he was eager merely, to furnish her with accommodating love and civility. "I swear to you, I shall devout myself to Agnes and John's cause - they shall live openly soon, I swear it. But your own influence is a titan, is it not? I believe it to be you, whom shall see your family restored; and all affairs of the heart, forgiven." He smiled til he was warm; he bent his head to hers, and there opened up a light in his eye worth seeing - his voice was no uncertain sound but rather a triumphant bell, ringing at twilight.  "Stay with me always. I would make a home for us in the heart of a tempest if you would let me. You belong to the courts and I do not contest your ambitions; but grant me your heart." I cannot suffer the indignity of being its second ranked patron. 

though  no  one  in  the  family  could  deny  that  there  had  been  a  measure  of  genuine  affection  between  her  parents,  katherine  brandon  had  always  held  herself  with  an  air  of  composure  that  philippa  could  only  assume  had  been  inherited  from  queen  mary  tudor  of  france  ─  there  was  no  such  self - restrain  in  her  daughter,  however,  as  peals  of  giggles  escaped  the  column  of  her  throat  at  the  theatrics  that  her  husband  often  took  upon  himself,  acting  as  though  she  were  the  most  beautiful  creature  he  had  ever  seen,  leaving  him  breathless  with  compliments  that  would  draw  a  wide,  shy  smile  to  her  features  that  left  her  cheeks  pink  with  mirth  and  no  small  amount  of  adoration.  only  in  the  privacy  of  their  rooms,  beneath  his  unflinchingly  devoted  gaze  could  she  afford  to  be  at  ease,  slender  fingers  encased  in  his  warm  palm  as  he  guided  her  to  spin  upon  a  foot  so  that  her  skirts  fanned  out  around  her  and  her  curls,  unbound,  bounced  with  her  movements.  ❝  and  why  would  i  be  sweet  to  you  ?  would  you  not  rather  feel  my  bite  against  the  flesh  of  your  shoulder,  husband  ?  ❞  imperious,  she  spoke  from  above  her  nose  though  her  tone  lacked  genuine  arrogance  and  possessed  only  fondness  for  the  man  that  stood  before  her  ─  her  fool  of  a  husband  with  whom  she  had  found  unexpected  happiness.  it  made  her  almost  guilty  to  be  so  ludacriously  delighted  by  him  when  she  had  protested  so  heavily  when  their  marriage  had  first  been  proposed  but  with  each  day  that  passed,  nicholas  had  curled  around  her  walled  heart  and  sang  her  praises  until  the  gates  had  parted  to  allow  him  entrance  where  so  few  had  succeeded.

❝  will  you  be  jealous  if  i  said  yes  ?  i  have  never  had  anyone  fight  for  my  attention  before.  ❞  philippa  was  a  cruel  woman  when  it  came  to  her  heart.  she  was  a  demanding  sister  and  a  possessive  lover,  pushing  the  boundaries  because  she  would  never  feel  worthy  of  the  affection  that  she  was  given  unless  she  was  working  to  earn  it  and  doubting  their  devotion  unless  it  was  proven,  over  and  over  again.  nicholas  deserved  a  kinder  wife,  one  that  did  not  conspire  and  risk  both  their  necks,  one  that  did  not  keep  secrets  from  him  that  he  was  owed  the  knowledge  of  but  she  could  only  hope  he  would  forgive  her  in  time.  ❝  i  will  not  have  it  said  that  i  am  not  merciful  or  humble  ...  it  would  not  do  any  good  to  boast  of  just  how  dedicated  my  husband  is  when  poor  agnes  cannot  claim  john  as  her  own.  ❞  her  fingers  squeezed  his  hand,  drawing  closer  to  him  until  their  foreheads  met  with  a  gentle  bump  ─  when  confronted  with  the  struggles  that  her  sister  faced,  philippa  could  not  help  but  feel  grateful  that  there  was  someone  that  she  could  share  such  gentleness  with  and  that  her  graceful  collection  in  public  was  an  act  that  she  had  chosen  to  undertake  rather  than  a  circumstance  that  was  forced  upon  her.  ❝  can  we  stay  like  this  for  a  moment  ?  you  have  made  me  deliriously  happy  and  i  ...  i  am  all  at  sea.  ❞

[nicholasdsutton]

for: @agneseymour nicholas' apartments

    He entered in a mood which made him as good as the sun, furnishing the already well-lit sitting room. The afternoon light played amongst the flowers in vases, laughing across his walls; catching luster from Nicholas' all encompassing smile. There was a clearness of amity in his dark eyes, and a glow of good feeling on his genial countenance, which passed perfectly in the company of beauty. For Agnes was beautiful - her complexion sweet, her eyes dark and full. Six and twenty had afforded her a refined and tender charm, effused in a subtle glow. "Forgive me for my delay, sister - I was caught in the whims of our King, and beckoned to tennis. It is prudent, is it not, in times such as these, to keep his majesty appeased?" The cordial core of his delight was his heart; it was an organ tender beyond the tenderness of most mens - it humbled him to women, and endeared him to little children. He dwelled upon moments with Agnes with sunny satisfaction; he wrote to her only with pleasure, most genuine and exquisite. Nicholas offered her consolations of a tone too fine for the ear to not fondly retain their echo; won to her confidence, he appeared before her a friend. "In these safe walls, may I be granted your pardon, to inquire after my nephew? You are a woman of unrivalled qualities beyond motherhood and invariably tire of my inquisitions into the health of your child - I too, wish to hear all on your matters and worries. I am however, a man of simplicity, as you well know; I cannot help my devotion to the little one."

[nicholasdsutton]

This way came Edmund - in visage, in shape, acerbic and dark in hue; he did not simper, his mouth was fastidious, his eye cool. Nicholas' good fortune constituted a strong claim on his forbearance - the result being drawn out battles between impatience and disgust. In Nicholas' own right, envy and a sense of delivered justice were held in his hands; when the former feelings prevailed, he displayed a character which had its terrors. The force Edmund exerted in holding in his cheeks, in no way mitigated his sense of vehemence - but it required a through comprehension of his character to evince these sentiments. His nature was of an order rarely comprehended; Nicholas' shuddered to imagine his bride privy to his intimacies. Yet there was a confidence tempered with gentleness - Nicholas was excessively anxious to rid himself of thoughts of tenderness . A god could not have the cruel vanity of Nicholas, and no immortal figure could resemble him in his temporary oblivion of all but the spectre before him. Edmund irritated his jealousy - a feeling he was quick to connivence when his status was offended, or his will thwarted. 

"Earl." He spoke, grimacing what he truly intended was a smile - but it was a grim and hurried manifestation. "Your apologies are unwarranted and thus I believe no acceptance needed; a man of your charms will invariably be occupied. A lady, perhaps? Or the care of your beloved sisters." Nicholas was not oblivious to the certain vigorous physical characteristics of his rival - the intent keenness of his eye, the mobility of his flexible mouth. Edmund's look was not easily described; his strength, without effort, bore down on Nicholas and extracted his fangs. "Dear friend, I can think of little more promising of pleasure, than an afternoon spent on the hunt with you as my companion - that of course, excluding the company of my bride. Shall we find a boar, perhaps? Or a prize of even greater worth?" 

closed starter for @nicholasdsutton ! when: a few days post play in the park ! where: the gardens !

in another life, edmund wondered if he would've found a warm kinship of sorts with nicholas. perhaps they may have shared a summer or two together in northumberland, young boys with hounds chasing each other in some attempt at rivaling the stories their tutors told them. or one where edmund allowed the older man to press him against cool stone walls, plead with him to take something that could not be undone. a life where nicholas had yet to lay claim to the woman that had plucked edmund's heart so callously from his own chest, where he was not left bleeding garishly in the halls of hampton. alas, the idea remained simply another fantasy to keep the earl company on the colder evenings. instead, edmund stood before nicholas as a meaningless rival, for he may be captivated by philippa - but the feelings never truly were returned. 

with a tight smile on his face, edmund nodded his head in polite acknowledgement of the elder. " duke," he spoke, allowing himself a miniscule amount of defiance in his tone. he straightened slightly in his stance, making himself appear large before the other. " it is a pity that we were not privy to crossing paths the other evening." half haughty smile threatened to tug at the corner of his mouth. " i must request we rectify the blunder forthwith, perhaps a hunting expedition between dear friends?" vividly bright eyes bore gently into nicholas' own, a challenge within them. 

[nicholasdsutton]

for: @philippaed

Eyes blue and serene, round as beads; fascinatingly pretty, in her highest spirits (unperturbed by fear or dullness) and exceedingly delightful at the prospect of shining before the English court - the entrance of Philippa Grey, his bride, transfixed him with excitement. Pippa possessed a fair, fragile style of beauty which one was entirely incapable of enduring - in taking such a wife, Nicholas had prepared to guarantee her an existence of all sunshine. By mere glimpses of her, it was easily proved that genuine love - if not ardent admiration - was at her command. Nicholas invariably bored his wife with compliments - but how beautiful she looked, so fresh, with a shape altogether English. He took her hand, and bade her to turn airily round, as to undergo a cooler inspection. Never was the distinction between duty and ambition better exemplified than in her - he suddenly felt the dishonour of his own diffidence, of his pusillanimity. "Be sweet to me, Pips, and allow me to award you compliments a woman of your order deserve. Your dress is spellbinding, even if your beauty requires no ornamentation. Have you yet been approached by eager panting courtiers, wishing for a bit of sweetness from your lips?" 

  Flattery and fiction both ran from his tongue, but her presence invoked glibness. "Your sisters are equally beauteous in every way, though I think you rank chief among them - though you shall spare me my love? From their wrath should this information be repeated; I know your sisters to be deft with wielding slippers, and as cunning as they appear sweet." Nicholas bore a mischievous smile about his lips, and in his eyes a look of elation. One never tired of gazing at Pippa, her cheek with its wholesome bloom, her eye with its temperate blue light - she pleased not with moderation, but with consistency)